


New Year’s Eve at Macau’s

by Kate_Marley



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Related, Historical, Historical Hetalia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/Kate_Marley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a dire civil war, Portugal needs a break from politics at his place. He decides to accompany a merchant ship to East Asia, where he meets Macau again. His trading port has become a mature young man who is quite capable of being successful without him. Portugal feels increasingly confused in his presence…</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year’s Eve at Macau’s

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note before the story begins: The Portuguese first landed in Macau in 1516 and the Chinese allowed them to settle there and create a trading post in 1557. Macau still belonged to China, though; it only became a Portuguese colony in 1887 (and remained such until 1999). I suppose Himaruya refers to the years before 1887 when he states that Macau and Portugal were friends even before Macau became Portugal’s colony.
> 
> Gambling was legalised in Macau in 1847, when Britain’s Hong Kong became increasingly important as a trading hub for East Asia, surpassing Macau. That’s why this fanfic is set in 1848, and Chapter 80 of Hetalia World Stars basically takes place during the first time leap in my story.

_4 February 1848_

With a satisfied sigh, Portugal stepped on solid ground again. He felt a little dizzy after all the weeks he had spent on the merchant ship that had brought him to East Asia, even if he _knew_ the earth was not heaving to and fro under his feet.

“Portugal!”, a familiar voice called. Portugal lifted his head in search for the young personification of Macau—not a country, not even a colony, and yet so very important for his trading activities in Asia. Not that Portugal was among the major players in the East Asian sea trade any longer; others, Britain and the Netherlands in particular, had long surpassed him...

“Welcome at my place! I’m glad to see you again”, a young man dressed in finely woven Chinese clothing interrupted his thoughts. Portugal blinked. _This_ was his Macau? Could it be true?

The person standing before him was much taller than in his memories, and while Macau had still had the body of a child when Portugal had last seen him, he now looked like an adolescent on the verge of becoming a fine young adult. The chubby cheeks of the boy had morphed into angles, and Macau’s black and slightly slanted eyes regarded Portugal with a friendly expression.

“Ma—Macau”, Portugal stammered. “You’ve grown so much...”

“And you haven’t changed much, it seems”, replied Macau and pulled him into a curt embrace—a decidedly _European_ gesture, contrasting sharply with the Asian style of his attire. At Macau’s place, Portuguese and Chinese customs were mixing, just like ... just like the scents of cinnamon and carnations and various other spices were mixing in Portugal’s nose when Macau pulled him close. The dizziness Portugal felt was increasing, and this time, it had nothing to do with the swell of the sea on the ship he had just left.

Then, Macau stepped back and Portugal was able to form coherent thoughts once more. “How are you?”, he managed to say.

“Oh, I’m fine”, replied Macau, apparently oblivious of the effect his gesture had had on Portugal. “Even more so since you have come on a very special day for me: Today is New Year’s Eve according to the Chinese calendar, and you’ve come just in time for the traditional dinner! It’s not evening yet, but why don’t you come over to my home for tea? We could talk about politics and our economies in a relaxed atmosphere there. Doesn’t that sound like a decent idea?”

„Indeed“, Portugal said, smiling. “I’m just waiting until the crew unloads the ship and hands my luggage to me, if that would be convenient?”

“Very much so”, answered Macau with a little bow. “I’m going to leave you now in order to prepare the tea, and I’m already looking forward to talk to you.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Portugal swallowed hard. “More ... adult ways of making money?”

Macau regarded him with a curious expression. “Why, gambling, of course. As you probably know, people are allowed to gamble at my place now, and it does wonders to my economy ... Seriously, Portugal, what were you just _thinking?”_

Portugal rather preferred not to reply to this. The tips of his ears felt hot, and if they were as red as he feared, he supposed that was enough of an answer.

“Anyway”, said Macau, clapping his fan on the edge of the low table on which he had served the tea. “We haven’t talked much about _you_ yet. How are you? I heard about the civil war... Liberals against conservatives, wasn’t it?”

“Can we rather not talk about that?”, replied Portugal, sighing deeply. “I’m so _ashamed_ at how week I have become… I even had to ask Britain and Spain to help me end that war!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bring up a topic you’re uncomfortable with.” Macau looked as if he had made a huge mistake. Portugal remembered that the Chinese held the belief that it admitted of no excuse to make someone lose his face, and he feared Macau’s Chinese side was surfacing again.

“Don’t worry”, he hastened to reassure him. “It seems like politics at my place are getting back into shallow waters, after all. If only I could tell you the same about my economy… I’m so sorry, I must be rather a burden for you.”

“No, not at all”, Macau replied instantly. “As I said, my economy is doing fine thanks to my gambling permit. Speaking of which, do you want to play a game of cards with two of my friends and me? Do you know how to play Whist?”

“Yes, to both questions”, Portugal said, glad Macau had changed the topic. “Isn’t the eve of the Chinese New Year a holiday at your place, though?”

“True, but some of my _friends_ wouldn’t miss a decent game of cards if their lives depended on it.” There it was again, that dark and menacing look on Macau’s face; the same as when he had said _more adult ways._ Portugal felt a queasy flicker in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered briefly if it was possible that he was _afraid_ of the mature person Macau had become.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Half an hour later, Portugal sat at a table in a dimly lit room together with Macau and two Asian men whom Macau had introduced as _Pedro and Paulo;_ Portugal rather doubted these were their real names. Macau and Pedro were playing against Paulo and himself, which meant that Paulo was placed opposite of him. Macau was sitting to his left, but Portugal could barely see him through the smoke of his cigar.

They were playing a Chinese variant of Whist, and Portugal barely understood what was going on. England had only ever taught him to play Whist “according to Hoyle”—“the only adequate way of playing this venerable game”, as Arthur had put it, but the ability to play strictly by the rules wasn’t much use to Portugal now.

“Portugal”, Macau whispered into his left ear. His breath smelled of sandalwood and tickled on Portugal’s skin. “You should be more careful. I can see your hand.”

Portugal tried to hold his cards in another way, but his heart slammed in his chest and a shiver ran down his spine. _Macau is talking to me in Patuá,_ was the only thing he was able to think. _I wish he would use this mixture of Portuguese, Malay, and Cantonese more often... When did I start to like creole languages so much?_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Really, Portugal”, Macau said, frowning, “you shouldn’t have turned down the cigar I offered you. It was perfumed with sandalwood and I’m sure it would have had a calming effect on you.” They were walking back to Macau’s house in the darkness with the intention to get some leftover chicken and fish from the traditional banquet at New Year’s Eve Macau had skipped in favour of gambling with his “friends”. 

“I rather doubt it”, Portugal answered. The memory of Macau’s breath at his ear made his skin tickle. He had lost a rather considerable amount of money to the other and Paulo would probably avoid playing with him ever again, but Portugal couldn’t care less. He was still unable to comprehend why he suddenly felt such a strange attraction towards Macau—his old friend Macau, whom he had known for _centuries_ without ever thinking of him as anything but a _friend_ —but he couldn’t deny any longer that _somehow,_ this was what had happened.

“Oh dear, they’ve already cleared the tables”, Macau exclaimed when they arrived at his place. “Would you mind going upstairs to my room while I’m off to the kitchen to see if the servants still have some food for us?”

Portugal replied in the negative and climbed the stairs to Macau’s room, which was decorated richly with red lanterns and ribbons with Chinese characters on them. Glad to be able to spend some time on his own, he went to one of the large windows and leaned on the windowsill. Outside, people in colourful clothes were gathering for the traditional fireworks starting about an hour before the beginning of the new year. _“Macau”,_ Portugal whispered.

“Yes?”, Macau’s smooth voice replied from right behind him. Portugal almost jumped.

“You don’t have to wait much longer; I’m sure the fireworks will start in an instant”, Macau remarked. He wasn’t as close as when he had whispered to Portugal in Patuá, but still _much too close_ for Portugal’s liking. “Ah, yes, and the servants actually saved some fish and chicken for us”, Macau chattered on. “Very considerate of them, isn’t it? I should reward them...”

“Macau”, Portugal interrupted him insistently, “could you please step back just a little?”

“Why?” Macau’s voice had suddenly gone dark, and instead of stepping away, he stepped so close that Portugal could feel Macau’s body heat radiate through the fabric of his shirt.

“You know why.” The moment the words left Portugal’s mouth, he knew that they were true: Macau had probably realized what was the matter with him in the very moment they had embraced.

“Our relationship has already changed during the last couple of years, _Afonso”,_ Macau whispered into his ear, sliding his arms around Portugal’s waist. “I became aware of that several years ago; you realized it only now. Don’t be afraid of change. It isn’t always a bad thing.”

And while the first firecrackers lighted the night sky to announce the coming of a new year, Portugal dared to turn around and wrap his arms around Macau’s shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish all of you who read this a happy new year!
> 
> The Year of the Earth Monkey started on Saturday, 5 February 1848. I couldn’t find out if Macau actually celebrated the Chinese New Year during the time when the Portuguese governed it, but I assumed he would since he was still Chinese territory. My apologies if he didn’t.
> 
> Fish and chicken are traditional dishes for a banquet during Chinese New Year’s Eve, and red lanterns and ribbons with Chinese New Year’s wishes on them are part of the traditional decoration. Of course, it’s very uncommon to miss the banquet, but perhaps it’s Macau’s European/Christian side that’s showing in the fic…
> 
> The **civil war** Portugal and Macau mention (conservative Chartists, supported by Queen Maria II, versus liberal Septembrists) ended in 1847 with a victory of the Chartists. Unlike other European countries, there was no liberal revolution in Portugal in 1848.
> 
>  **Whist** is an English game of cards which was popular in the 18th and 19th centuries and eventually evolved into Bridge. Its classic rules follow Edmond Hoyle’s _Short Treatise on the Game of Whist_ (1742). Whist spread to many countries during the years after the Congress of Vienna (1814/15) and lots of local variants developed, among them Chinese Whist.
> 
>  **Patuá** is a Portuguese-based creole language with elements of Malay and Cantonese. Some people are still able to speak Patuá, but it was probably never very widely spread in Macau.
> 
>  **Sandalwood** is said to have a calming effect.
> 
> ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
> 
> German translation: <http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/568442e100042e2719b0e3da/1/Neujahrsabend-bei-Macau>


End file.
